Therapy
by BrokenPromisesPro
Summary: Life hasn't been easy for Dean, he blames himself for every tragedy that he had gone through that's slowly killing him. He is finally convinced to go to therapy to convince everyone else that he's okay. But is therapy just making everything worse? Will there be someone to save him from his own dark thoughts before it's too late? DxC Rated T may change to M (Trigger Warning inside)


**TRIGGER WARNING! **

**This story consist of panic attacks, depression, verbal/physical abuse, self harm, suicidal thoughts and death! Please, if you trigger easily, don't read. I would never forgive myself if something happens to you :( I want you to be safe, so please read at your own risk.**

* * *

_The atmosphere was freezing, so cold it must have frozen time, everything was still as can be. The chilling sensation caused his arm hair to stand, goose bumps overcoming throughout his entire body, it was his blood running cold. __The vision wasn't as clear, the room was becoming dark, pitch black, it made him feel small. The walls were closing in, constricting him making it was getting difficult to breath. __The atmosphere in the room was thick and heavy, the walls felt as if they were closing in, a whole bunch of the pressure was weighing down on him, it hurts._

_A cold hearted laugh echoed in the room. It sounded like a maniac, his heard his breathe was getting shaky, it scared the crap out of him. _

_'You were always a worthless piece of shit! Just look at you!' __The voice sounded distant but it was loud, its words just bashing through him, __'Nobody loves you, nobody cares about you.'_

_"No," he responded to the voice, "that's not true!"_

_'All your fault,' the voice repeated. 'It's all your fault, you should listened! Obeyed!'_

_"I didn't know, I didn't know!" he tried to fight back. Anything to shut the voice up, but it just continued to get even louder._

_'He didn't have to go through that. It should have been you! It should have been you!'_

_He clapped his hand over his ears not wanting to hear any more of it. "It should have been me," he repeated. He couldn't have agreed more with the voice, but all he wanted to do was to shut it up. He screwed up, really bad, he knew that, but he wanted it to shut up. "It's all my fault, it should have been me. But please, just stop!"_

_'NO!' it roared, 'You don't deserve to live in peace, you don't deserve to live! You deserve to suffer, you deserve it, because it should have been you.'_

_A broken sob escaped his lips, soon realizing he had cowered away into a corner trying to escape the voice with no avail. His face was wet from the salty tears he spilled and entire body was shaking __vigorously_. He just wanted it all to stop, just stop! "Please! I'm sorry, so sorry. But please," he begged, he didn't know how to fight it back anymore, the more he fought, it was just getting worse. He rocked himself, shutting his eyes and ears trying to soothe himself. There was only one way he knew how he can permanently get rid of the voice, it was the only way.

_End it._

* * *

_Tick Tock Tick Tock_

The red hand on the wall clock continued to tick away, echoing through the awkward silence that filled the empty room.

The tapping of his finger against the window frame, mimicking the sound of every second that continued to pass by, leaning most of his weight by hand against the window frame as he looked at nothing, focusing his mind on the sound of the clock.

_Tick Tock Tick Tock _

_'Patience is key.'_

_Patience my ass._

Patience is something Dean Winchester did not have, and he was on the board of snapping. This past hour (possibly two) he's been locked in this room that is supposedly made to make him feel at home and this lady just drilling him with questions to find a way to 'help him.' Help for what though? He doesn't need any help. Sure, he had to admit that this past couple of years haven't been the easiest per say, but so what? Everyone has a rough moment in their lives at some point, right? He's okay. He knows he's okay, shouldn't that be enough? He hasn't been complaining, not until now. Only because he was here in the first place.

_'Just a couple minutes left, Winchester. It'll all be over soon,' _he reminded himself, controlling to keep his breathe at a steady pace, trying his best to not let the constricting feeling lodged in his throat get the best of him. But he needed to be calm at this point, he was alright, it's okay. A couple more minutes in this hell hole wouldn't hurt, right? He shook his head from those haunting thoughts and rubbed his face trying to wash out the exhaustion he feels, but now regretting it. The closing of his eyes made them feel heavier, he just wants this appointment to be over with so he can go home.

"Dean, why won't have seat, talk to me. At least tell me how you are feeling?" his therapist, _whatshername,_ asked as sweetly as possible.

Dean returned to reality, he didn't realized he had been staring out the window throughout most of the session. He turned toward her direction, looking at the black leather seat she was offering him. He stood up straight as he took in a deep breath, the constricting feeling soon subsided. He didn't bother moving to the chair's direction, the top of wooden desk looked much more comfier and decided to take a seat on top of it instead. Dean reached for the golden name plate that rested against the mahogany wooden desk, spinning and twiddling it in his hands fully aware of the eyes that were on him that rolled in arrogance.

_Doctor Lisa Braeden, Therapist_

Most likely Lisa was starting to lose her patience with him, anyone could tell by the way she's been tapping the pen against the notepad or the fact that she would remove her eyeglasses every now and then to pull back the loose strand of her dark, chocolate brown hair out of her face to allow herself to rub her temples or the bridge of her nose to rid of the possible migraine that was building up. Even once she looked like she was on the brink of pulling out her own hair out of frustration. Wouldn't blame her though, it's been a couple weeks since she's been working with Dean, four sessions worth of work only to gain a handful of sassy remarks out of it, never serious answers. Dean knows he's being very difficult to talk to, but that's just him. He's never been one for talking, especially when it's about feelings, like seriously, what difference does it make talking about his "emotions" even to someone close, now he has to pay some stranger to pretend she cares? It doesn't change a god damn thing. Whatever happened, happened. Why couldn't they just leave it at that?

"Well now that you mention it I am a bit hungry," he smirked cockily, pretty proud of the response he has given.

And there it was, she sighed out in frustration as she drops her notepad and pen onto her lap, leaning back in her little black leather spinney chair, the one she refused to let him sit in. Well, she did once, but that didn't last very long. She made him get out of the chair because he didn't stop spinning throughout the whole session and didn't keep focus. Ever since then, he wasn't allowed to sit her seat. Dean had to admit he likes seeing her get all cranky, it was kinda cute and just down right hilarious.

"Dean, why do you have to make it so difficult?" Lisa asked him, now standing from her place, fixing her blue button up blouse and gently pulling down the fold in the hem of her black pencil skirt to straighten it. Her glossy, black stiletto heels gives her a couple inches in height, but still reaches Dean probably around chest height or maybe even shoulder height, from what he could remember, not really sure. The cream colored pearl necklace settled perfectly around her neck, complimenting her olive skin tone as her wavy, brown hair resting past her shoulders, and those doll like brown eyes. As much of a bitch he thought she was, Dean had to admit, she's was beautiful.

"It makes this so much entertaining, don't ya' think?" he chuckled. That was the truth indeed, he had to admit, as dreading as these sessions were, he did a kick out of the irritated looks that are being thrown back at him.

Lisa now stood before Dean, setting down her notepad and her eyeglasses on the desk right by him. "I get it Dean," she spoke pulling back the loose strands of her behind her ears, revealing a set of pearled earrings similar to her necklace.

"Do you now?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Yes, I do," she spoke almost immediately, just about cutting off his last word. She gently took back the name plate out of his hands placing it back to it original place. "You may think this has been a whole waste of time, but I did manage to notice a lot of your characteristics. You hide behind this... _'carefree'_ attitude, pretending you don't give a crap about anything and anyone. You think you may have everyone fooled, but you know what? I'm not buying it."

Dean couldn't help to chuckle at the sudden change of tone, but Lisa continued on.

"You laugh and smile, pretending like nothing is wrong, but I can see it in your eyes. How broken you really are."

That was all it took to wipe the smile of of Dean's face. He felt his blood suddenly grow cold, his heart seemed to have skipped a beat and the corner of lip twitched, trying to go down into a frown, but fought against it. He licked his lips, which were feeling a bit chapped, trying to clear his throat making it sound as if he chuckled before giving a response. He felt himself swallowing back any argument that was just waiting to slip out his tongue, the constricting feeling was creeping it's way back, but she pressed on.

"You've been through a lot Dean, all those series of events, so much loss in your life and you continue to pull through, I admire you for that. But, you can't just keep all those emotions bottled up inside, it's going to continue to build inside you, eat away at you. That's what I'm worried about Dean, I want to do everything I can do to help you through this, but I can't do that unless you open up to me."

Her voice grew softer, her eyes looked as if she were pleading.

He cleared his throat loudly, he didn't trust his voice at the moment but he had to give some sort of response, "What the point in all this Lisa? You don't even care."

"I do care, Dean," she responded only to be cut short.

"No, you don't," Dean interrupted standing from his place now, making Lisa take a step back to give him his space. "You don't give two shits about me. The only reason you're here is because that's what they pay you to do, pretending to give a damn. Trying to pry out every sob story you can so you can pat me in the back, telling me 'things get better,' when they fucking don't! I don't need that, because I'm fine!"

He didn't mean to yell, not really realizing his volume was rising in the first place. But god, why couldn't people just believe him that he was actually okay. It just made him so angry from given the same answer to the same fucking question.

Lisa didn't lose eye contact from Dean not even for a second. Didn't flinch away from his outburst, "If you claim to be okay, then what's the real reason?"

"What do you mean 'my real reason?'" he shook his head in confusion.

"You say you're okay, that you're fine, yet you're the one whose here on his own will. What I mean by that, what's the real reason you're here in the first place."

_Shit. _Everything about this whole situation is just becoming uncomfortable to Dean. He swallowed back and not knowing where to even look, he did anything to avoid the miss's eyes. It was true, Dean did make the decision to even be here, but even he didn't know how to answer that question. Why was he here in the first place?

"It's Sam, right?"

Dean attention went immediately back to Lisa when he suddenly heard the familiar name, making his blood run cold.

"Sam, he's your brother right? At least that what I read from your file," she motioned to closed vanilla file that sat upon her desk. "Is he the reason why your here? Why don't you tell me more about him?"

Dean really had nothing to say especially when it came to Sam. He didn't appreciate the fact that his little brother even became a topic in this conversation. But truth be told, it was because of him, Dean is only here because of him. The real reason.

Before he could answer, a beep from his watch sounded off breaking the silence, he checked his golden accessory and noticed it already five past four o' clock. "Well, time's up!" he announced. Thank god, he would have a had a break down soon if he didn't get the hell out of here. He made his way to pick off his leather jacket where is hung on the clothes hanger next to door that lead him out to freedom from this hell hole.

"Dean!" Lisa called out after him following close behind.

"Sorry doc, session's over. I'm going home," he smirked as he put on his leather jacket, quickly fixing the collar and sleeves before his hand gripped the door handle to turn and open.

"Dean! I expect you to take this more seriously next ti-!"

"Always!" Dean responded back not letting her finish her sentence and with that he shut the door behind him.

"Fuck!" the therapist cursed to herself. That was more progress she ever got out of him yet, and just when he was about to open up, father time decided to be a dick. She was so fucking close. Hopefully, he'll be able to open up next week. Letting out a deep sigh, one can only dream.

* * *

_"In a city of fools,_  
_I was careful and cool,_  
_But they tore me apart like a hurricane..._  
_A handful of moments I wished I could change_  
_But I was carried away._

_Give me therapy._  
_I'm a walking travesty_  
_But I'm smiling at everything._  
_Therapy..._  
_You were never a friend to me_  
_And you can keep all your misery."_

_~Therapy by All Time Low~_

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_**Hooray for new story! So what's up guys? What you guys think? This really different from what I usually write, well not really. But I can tell this is probably one of the darkest stories I have written so far. I even surprised myself, but I had this in mind for awhile and just got around to writing it! **_

_**This a very personal story for me because I'm writing down my very own thoughts and some of the scenes throughout the stories would be from my very personal experience. Well except this whole therapy thing, never been to a therapy session in my life so sorry if it's very off. I'm just going off on what I would assume happens, and from what I've seen from tv shows, so sorry if it isn't accurate.**_

_** Also hooray for music lyrics! I've been listening to this song lately and it fitted really well with this story, since it is where I got the idea from, so yeah I'll be adding on lyrics that I listen to while writing this story as well!**_

_**I do have a couple stories saved up on my computer so i could be slightly more active than usual. So New chapters for current stories, one shots and new stories coming your way soon! I most likely will update on a weekend so yeah! (Except for this story which i literally just posted at midnight on a Monday, whoops!)**_

_**But yeah any ways leave me a review or pm me to let me know what you think! Thanks ~**_


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